


she takes a dip in my daydreams

by quakeriders



Series: feysand kinktober 2019 [5]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/M, Isaac is more like a prop, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Squirting, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-11-24 11:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20906825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: Striking grey-blue eyes took him in, moving quickly down and back up his body, before a small smile graced her lips.If she hadn’t smiled, Rhys might have managed to look away, to act as if he hadn’t blatantly checking her out at 8 am. But she did. And when she began to walk towards him, Rhys found himself scrambling for something to saykinktober, day 05, 08, 13





	1. kinktober, day 05

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ch 1: kinktober, day 05: exhibitionism + voyeurism + dirty talk

The coffee shop was bustling with people who were dying to get their early morning fix. Rhys hadn’t even been awake for twenty minutes, when he had slipped on a hoodie and made his way down to the shop right next to his apartment building.

As he waited in line, he couldn’t help but take in his fellow customers with bleary eyes.

A woman with a stroller gently cooed to her baby to please stop crying, that mommy needed a cup of tea and then they would be off.

A man in a suit was typing furiously into his phone, huffing and puffing at the line before him.

Another woman, wearing yoga pants and a huge sweater was getting her coffee, looking sleepy and relieved and gorgeous.

She had full lips, a delicately pointy chin and a pert nose that made her look like something straight out of a dream. Her golden blonde hair was long and falling over one shoulder in great, soft waves.

Rhys couldn’t look away.

Which was why when the woman looked up, their eyes met.

Striking grey-blue eyes took him in, moving quickly down and back up his body, before a small smile graced her lips.

If she hadn’t smiled, Rhys might have managed to look away, to act as if he hadn’t blatantly checking her out at 8 am. But she did. And when she began to walk towards him, Rhys found himself scrambling for something to say.

He didn’t have to because the woman stopped a foot before him and cocked her head in contemplation. "Do I know you?"

Her voice was just as beautiful as the rest of her. Soft like honey, tinged with a sharpness that cut have cut through steel.

Rhys slid his hands into his pockets, desperately grasping for his persona of a cool, unaffected man. But, it was too early for him. And she was too beautiful.

Instead, he swallowed hard and to put his foot into his mouth, "No, I don’t think so. But I would like for us to get to know each other"

She blinked at him. Bemused at his lame pick-up line, but also still contemplating. "Hm, I think I’ve _definitely_ seen you before."

Her eyes trailed down his body once more, those eyes turning more assessing and lingering in some places. Rhys resisted the urge to puff out his chest. Then a spark of recognition alighted in her eyes and that smile turned more earnest, more childlike.

"You’re the guy from across the street." She said, leaving Rhys looking down at her in confusion. At his blank look, she sighed and explained further, "The one with the swords."

A vivid memory of a drunken night with Cassian flashed through his mind. He remembered lots of insults coming from his brother, more yelling from Mor and condescending comments made by Amren. He remembered Cassian throwing him one of the ornamental swords that hung in his living room for decoration and challenging him to a duel.

"How do you know about that?" Rhys asked, pretty sure he would have remembered if someone like her had been watching.

She snickered, raising her cup and blowing air into her drink to cool it. "I live right across the street. People tend to notice when there’s a sword fight happening right at eye level at 2 am in the year 2019."

Rhys chuckled. He couldn’t help himself. The chuckle tore from his chest unexpectedly and her own smile grew as he laughed. "You’re right. Though in my defence, that was my idiot brother’s idea. I’m Rhys, by the way."

Her smile turned more sharp and she raised an eyebrow to tell him that she was aware of his shameless attempt to flirt. "I’m Feyre. And from what I saw, you didn’t protest too much to the idea."

It seemed like she wanted to say more, but the phone in her hand buzzed and she gave him another dazzling smile dripping with something else. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Rhys. But I gotta go."

She didn’t move for a second, eyes sweeping over him once more and Rhys licked his lips under her heavy gaze. But before he could say anything else, like ask for date or at least her number, she was gone. Leaving Rhys standing in line, wondering if he had dreamed up the perfect woman that had woken him up before he had gotten his coffee.

—

Two days passed, but Rhys couldn’t get her out of his mind. He would find himself staring at his first draft, the letters on the screen blurring as his thoughts wandered to those blue-grey eyes piercing right into his soul and shaking him awake, those full lips pulling into a playful smirk making his heart beat faster.

He had realised soon after finishing his coffee, sitting at his desk and looking at the wall of windows across the street, that it shouldn’t have been possible for her to recognise his face if she had only seen him from there, in the middle of the night no less. It meant that she must have recognised his body more than his face. It made him felt smug, somehow.

However, Rhys hadn’t been able to figure out in which apartment she lived. He imagined that she would be on the same floor, right across the street, since she had told him that his window had been on her eye level.

But the curtains of the window right across from him had been shut the last two days. Rhys had found himself looking there too many times to count. With his desk right before the windows and his mind unhelpful in finishing his manuscript, he often wished that the curtain would part and he would catch a glimpse of her.

He almost slipped from his seat, when he saw the lights come on behind said window.That certainly hadn’t happened before and Rhys wondered briefly, if she hadn’t been home since their meeting.

Through the light curtains, he could see two bodies moving. One was about her height, if he could recall correctly and moving around the apartment, while the other was tall and broad and standing still.

Rhys watched the shadow that he thought was Feyre and clenched his jaw when her body collided with the other figure and their joined form began to slowly move from one room into anther.

With surprise, Rhys realised that the second room’s curtains were parted. They didn’t turn on the lights, but the room was lit by the light flooding in from the other room. And as he watched, he could see golden-brown hair softly glowing as it was gripped tightly by the man accompanying her.

He knew he should look away. Knew, he should get back to work and ignore what was happening across the street. But Feyre was like a beacon of light and he couldn’t help but stare. Stare as she stripped off her clothing, revealing a set of black underwear and began undressing her companion.

Her body was lithe, pale in the dim light and Rhys couldn’t help but trace every curve he could see right through the unlocked window. He drank in the sight of her, even as hands slid over her body, like a madman.

Rhys’ throat felt dry and he felt how his blood slowly drifted down between his legs. He watched as Feyre pushed the man onto the bed, straddling him and then the unthinkable happened.

Her head turned towards the window. He couldn’t make out her face clearly. Couldn’t tell if her eyes had found him, but then she was arching her back, her long hair tumbling down her back and she began shifting her hips as she leaned back and gripped the thighs of the man beneath her.

At the sight of her like that, back arched, head thrown back facing the ceiling, all thoughts went from his mind and his cock twitched. He accidentally let out a groan and almost felt ashamed at his reaction.

But then her head tilted towards the window again and Rhys was sure that she could see him. There was no way she couldn’t. Even if the dim lights in his room weren’t enough to highlight him, the glare of his screen would light up his slack-jawed face.

His hands clenched on his thigh and he was contemplating the merits of jacking off to the sight of the woman he had been thinking about for days as she fucked another man. He even went as far as to drag one hand over his cock, shifting around to relieve the pressure of his pants. Then his rational mind caught up to him and he ran a hand over his face in frustration, looking back at his screen.

Barely ten seconds passed before he was looking back up and his breathing turned ragged as he saw Feyre bouncing hard on the man’s cock, one hand on his chest while the other held back her hair. He could almost imagine the noises she would be making, the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the way her sweat would fill the air. He went as far as imagining how she would feel warm and wet and tight around him, clenching as he thrust up into her-

Without thinking, his hands went to his belt. He was undoing his pants, fully intent of watching her until she broke apart and coming right along with her, when the sound of his doorbell ringing woke him up from his singleminded stupor. He jerked up from his seat, struggling to fix his belt as he did so. Before he left the room, he pulled his curtains shut tightly.

A small part of him regretted the interruption and as he opened the door to find Mor holding up bags filled with take-out containers and Cassian carrying two six-packs, he tried to hide his still desperately hard and throbbing cock.

—

The next morning, Rhys was pissy and hungover and mentally went through his notes for the chapter that he planned on mapping out once he got back home with his coffee.

He opened the glass door of the coffee shop, inhaling deeply and enjoying the scent of freshly ground coffee beans that almost managed to kick his brain into gear for him.

Then his eyes caught two familiar shapes at the counter, ordering their coffees. Feyre’s hair was still wet, the ends curling at her lower back and she was wearing another set of yoga pants. Her top was tight though, long sleeved, short enough to show off her backside and glued to every dip and curve of her body and Rhys couldn’t help but drink in the sight of her back, her long legs, the shape of her tight ass.

She finished her order and moved towards the other end of the counter to wait for her drink when her head turned and she saw him. Her full lips pulled into a smirk and she drifted over to him, her hips swaying as she did so.

"Hey." She said, her voice low and somehow more sensual than it had been during their first conversation.

In his mind he could see the image of her naked body. He swallowed and replied, "Hey."

Somehow, in the light of day, Rhys felt embarrassed by his blatant staring the night before. And right now. But Feyre cocked her head, her smirk morphing into something more wicked and seductive.

"Did you enjoy watching me?" She purred, rising to the tips of her toes and leaning closer to him.

Rhys’ muscles tensed, his heartbeat picking up as he watched Feyre lick her lips and smirk up at him. When she spoke next, he could feel her breath on his neck, his cheek, his lips. "I know you were watching. Did it turn you on to watch me fuck someone else?"

He thought his knees would buckle at the tone she used. His eyes almost rolled into the back of his head as everything but Feyre blurred and he thought of nothing but touching her.

"Yes." He replied, breathlessly.

She chuckled softly, placing one hand on his arm where his shirt sleeve was rolled up and gently trailed her nails over his skin. "Did you touch yourself? Because I was wet for you. I came thinking about how you were watching me."

His breathing had turned ragged and he zoned in on her bottom lip caught between her teeth and the nails that softly dug into the underside of his wrist.

A body coming towards them sobered him up. He lifted his eyes to the man carrying two cups of coffee and looked back down at Feyre’s flushed face.

"I don’t think your boyfriend would appreciate you thinking like that." He said, trying to pull his arm from her, but she let out another soft laugh.

"He’s not my boyfriend." She sounded incredulous, almost delighted by his put out face and the man came up to hand Feyre her coffee. Rhys wasn’t convinced.

"I gotta go, Fey." He said, giving Rhys a quick nod in greeting, seemingly unbothered by the lack of space between their bodies.

She waved him off, not looking away from Rhys and said, "Isaac, are you my boyfriend?"

He, too, laughed. "Cauldron, no." Then, looking from Rhys to Feyre and back to him, he huffed out another laugh. "So, that’s the poor fellow you were torturing last night?"

"Goodbye, Isaac." Feyre said, grinning like a wolf and still not looking away from Rhys.

But Rhys was frowning at him and kept frowning at this Iscaac’s retreating form as he left the shop and Feyre once more dragged her nails up his arm.

"He knew?" Rhys asked, finally meeting her waiting gaze.

She grinned up at him. "He guessed when I wouldn’t stop looking through the window." She shrugged casually, taking a sip from her coffee and humming contently.

"And he doesn’t care?"

"We’ve known each other since high school. It’s nothing serious. Just a way to work off the stress."

Rhys took her in, this time he was the one assessing her and it seemed he finally got his act together around this gorgeous woman. "You deserve better than that." He purred at her, watching as her pupils dilated at his tone and the way he leaned into her.

He realised with some satisfaction that her voice had turned rough, breathless even. "Yeah? Will you show me?"

Holy hell, she would be the death of him. How could anyone be this seductive at 8 am? He huffed out a breath and leaned closer to whisper into her ear, so that no one but her could hear his words, "Why don’t you invite me over tonight and I’ll show you exactly what I mean."

"Hm." Feyre hummed, raising her hand from his arm and gently touched his chest, sliding over the buttons of his shirt and tracing the lines of his muscles. He knew she must feel his heart beating wildly beneath his ribcage and found he didn’t care.

"Why don’t you just leave your curtains open tonight and _I’ll_ show _you_ something better."

He let out a soft groan as she stepped closer, her breath now hot against his throat and his fingers flexed as he stopped himself from gripping her hard, pulling her into his body.

"Sir, it’s your turn." An annoyed voice said from somewhere far, far away and Feyre let out another soft laugh as she stepped away from him.

He almost followed her, already missing the smell of her skin, the heat of her body, but found the barista glaring at him, lips pursed. "What’s your order?"

Rhys heard the door open and shut and sighed as he saw Feyre hurrying across the street back to her building. He turned back and ordered his own coffee, all thoughts of unfinished manuscripts and chapters he had to outline gone from his head.

He couldn’t wait for tonight.


	2. kinktober, day 08

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ch 2: kinktober, day 08: phone sex + dirty talk + mutual masturbation

Rhys hadn’t even bothered to turn on his computer. He had been sitting at his desk, his notebook with all his loose ideas scribbled inside before him. But he could barely concentrate. With Feyre floating around in his mind, his half-baked ideas for his novel just didn’t seem that interesting or at all captivating.

He gave up around dusk. Huffing and leaning back in his chair. He looked across the street for probably the millionth time that day and swallowed his disappointment when he was greeted by the closed curtains and dark room behind them.

Running his hand through his hair, Rhys wished once more that he had possessed the presence of mind to ask for her number. But as it were, he was glued in his seat, hoping that at any moment the window across the street would light up from within and he would be able to look at the woman, who had stolen his mind.

The door bell rang and Rhys almost decided to ignore it. If it was Cassian or Mor, he wouldn’t be able to send them off. And they wouldn’t go without an explanation.

A knock sounded. It was soft and over before it had even started. Only one of his friends would be this considerate when knocking on his door, but since Azriel was off on a business trip, he realised that it was probably someone else.

With a sigh and another longing look out the window, Rhys made his way towards the door and opened it.

His neighbour from two floors up gave him a small, nervous smile. "Um, hey, hi. Sorry to bother you, but this random chick asked me to bring this up for you." She held up a little cardboard box with his name written on it. Rhys. No last name, not even his full first name.

At his confusion, she quickly added, "She promised it’s not a bomb or anything. When I said no, she wouldn’t let me go and honestly, it was a little scary."

Suspecting who that chick had been, Rhys gave her one of his most charming smiles and took the box from her. "Thank you very much for bringing it up. I apologise for the inconvenience."

She seemed soothed by getting rid of the box and at his smile, her shoulders relaxed. A small blush coloured her cheeks and Rhys almost pursed his lips at the clear hints she was sending his way.

"Oh, no." She said hurriedly. "It wasn’t a bother at all. I’m actually kind of glad that I got this chance to talk to you." Her words jumbled together, at that blush grew more prominent and she tucked her hair behind her ear. "I was wondering if you would like to go out with me some time."

Rhys’ smile turned more bland. He looked down at the box, reaching for the words that would let her down as gently as possible. But once more, thinking about what Feyre was up to blocked any other thoughts and he just held up the box and said, "Sorry, but I’m already seeing someone." He held up the box for clarification and her face fell immediately.

After that, she quickly said her goodbyes and hurried down the hallway back to the elevator. Rhys didn’t hesitate to shut the door, heading back towards his desk and pulling open the box.

Inside was a slip of paper. Nothing else.

He was almost disappointed, but then he looked closer and saw a neat row of numbers on there. His heartbeat picked up and when he looked back across the street, Feyre was standing by the window.

He scrambled for his phone, typing in the numbers, messing up and having to retry twice. But finally, he managed it and pressed call. He watched, breathless, as Feyre lifted one hand to her head and then her voice was in his ear.

"Hey, you." She purred and Rhys let out a soft sigh.

Her voice really was something else. It seemed like everything about Feyre managed to make him weak. Or turn him into a hormonal teenage boy. She had barely spoken two words and he already felt warmth pooling at his groin.

"Hi." He said stupidly and chided himself.

A soft laugh, then Feyre twisted to the side and another light flickered on. This one closer to her body and casting shadows over the dips of her body.

He could now see the dress she was wearing. It was skintight, black or a deep blue and barely long enough to cover her ass. The neckline sat right below her collarbones and was straight with thin straps wrapping around her shoulders.

"Did you miss me, Rhys?" Feyre asked, her voice like velvet. He imagined that the dress was made from the same material.

Rhys took a steadying breath, trying to get his shit together and finally felt a bit of his smooth, suave persona return to him. "Wouldn’t you like to know, darling?"

"Oh, I do." She breathed.

Feyre moved away from the window, towards her bed and sat down at the edge of the mattress.

Her legs were parted but across the distance, he couldn’t see well enough. "Let me come over and I’ll show you how much I missed you." He said, his voice turning husky.

With one hand, Feyre held the phone to her ear, while the other steadied her as she leaned back on the mattress. Her movements were graceful and watching her made him feel like they were the only two people in the world.

"Hmm," She hummed, head tilting back. If he had been there, he would have used the opportunity to run his hands up her leg and press his lips to her neck. "I don’t know."

Her voice was teasing. He could hear the smirk in the words and even through his longing to touch her, he couldn’t help but smile, too.

"What would you do to me if I let you come over?"

Dear Lord, Rhys sat down on his chair and chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. "Many things. But I would start with running my hands all the way up your legs. And maybe kiss your collarbones."

She let out a soft sigh, chin tilting back down and looked at him. "Do you want to know what I would do if you were here?"

Rhys swallowed and breathed, "Yes."

"I would run my hands down that chest of yours. I would run my hands down all the way and see if you were hard for me already. Are you, Rhys?"

His breathing sounded ragged to his own ears and he didn’t even think about lying. "Yes."

She let out a moan and Rhys watched as she sat up, moving onto the centre of the bed.

"Good. Because I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet. If you were here," She spread her legs, her dress riding up and Rhys realised that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath. "I would get my fingers wet. Like this," Her hand slipped between her legs, slowly and deliberately and and she moaned again. "And I would make you lick my fingers clean."

"Fuck." Rhys groaned, leaning back in his seat, spreading his own legs to ease the pressure.

He watched as Feyre’s hand lifted to her lips and then he listened to her sucking on her own fingers.

Feyre hummed in satisfaction, her hand dropping back to her thighs and Rhys reached for his belt. He tilted his head, trapping his phone between his shoulder and ear.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her voice suddenly sharp. He stopped moving, his belt undone but buttons still closed. For a moment, he wondered if she would stop him, but then Feyre purred, "I can see anything."

Rhys stood from his seat, throwing back his shoulders and looked at her from all the way across the street. "Where do you want me, darling?"

"On the bed." Her husky voice replied. "Take off your pants for me."

He did, dropping them where he stood and kicking off his socks alongside them. He kept his briefs on. Black and tight and with his cock straining against the soft fabric.

"Your shirt, too."

He put the phone down long enough to pull the shirt over his head and then her voice was back in his ears. A soft moan and Rhys almost dropped the phone when he saw that she was sliding the tight dress down her body. She wore no panties, just a strapless black bra.

He realized that he had never seen her breasts. That other night, she hadn’t taken off her bra either and the thought almost drove him mad. "What about you? Are you doing to leave your bra on?"

She let out a soft laugh, opening her legs wide and Rhys wished that he was there, able to bury his face between her thighs. What he wouldn’t give to do that right now.

"My bra for your briefs, baby." She said.

Rhys was almost glad when his cock sprang free. He was so hard that anything pressing down on it was too much. He refrained from running his hands over it, even if the lack of touch was slowly getting to his head.

"Hm, so big." She mused, reaching back and finally pulling off her bra.

This was torture. Something he had to endure because he had wronged someone terribly. Seeing her, hearing her but not being able to really see, to touch, to taste.

"I want you to come for me, Rhys." Feyre whispered through the phone. "I want you to watch me, I want you to think of my hand, of my mouth, I want you to come all over yourself, I want-" Her breathing hitched, hand gripping her breast and Rhys knew she must be pulling on a nipple.

"And you, darling?" Rhys groaned, sitting down heavily on his bed. "Do you imagine my hands on your body? Thinking about my mouth on you? My tongue in you? Because I do."

Feyre moaned, her hand had slid down over her stomach and was once again between her legs. He saw her move. Not slow, not teasing but hard and fast and her breathing turned ragged.

It sounded like music. Like music that made his blood pound, his heart ache and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Rhys finally reached for his own cock, hand tight and movements sharp as he watched Feyre’s own hand move. He matched her pace, gritting his teeth as he concentrated on not coming immediately.

He hadn’t been this turned on since his teenage years, he couldn’t even believe that sex could feel like this again. Feyre groaned his name, her voice throaty and deep and Rhys gripped himself harder. His muscles tensed, he could feel his orgasm coming and Feyre’s own moans had turned louder in his ear.

"Come for me, darling." Rhys spoke into the phone, his voice rough.

She let out a sharp cry, her body shaking. She didn’t stop moving her hand and that cry turned into a whimper as her hips lifted on the bed and she kept moaning his name.

Rhys came. Hard and fast and like she had asked of him, his cum hit his stomach and thighs. Hot and sticky.

"Fuck." He groaned, his fingers holding onto his softening cock as he listened to Feyre panting on the other end of the line.

"Yeah." She muttered. She had fallen back on the mattress, her knees in the air, legs closed and Rhys wondered how her lips would taste.

"Next time," Rhys said, closing his own eyes and lying down. "we’ll be in the same room."

"Yeah." Feyre gasped again.


	3. kinktober, day 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ch 3: kinktober, day 13: cunnilingus + squirting

Rhys slept through the night for the first time in a while. The thought of how he had fallen asleep to Feyre’s soft breathing on the other end of the line, made him smile dazedly. He slowly rubbed at his eyes, stretching out on the bed.

His hand bumped into his phone and the display lit up to show a message. He twisted so fast that he got tangled up in the sheets, but then he was opening up the message from Feyre and his stupid smile only grew.

≫ Tonight. 10 pm. My place.

He spent the rest of his morning humming softly to himself and when he met up with Cassian and Azriel for an early lunch, they looked at him with frowns but did not comment. Azriel reported what he had learned on his trip, while Cassian ate his body weight in pancakes.

Amren joined them later on, telling him the company was doing great without him and that he should take his time with whatever little story he was busy with currently. Cassian snorted at that, but Azriel gave them both warning glances.

Somehow, Mor floated in before things could get complicated and her and Amren went over a few numbers and indicators that did indeed put Rhys’ mind to ease. His cousin enquired about the state of his novel at which point Amren excused herself.

Rhys spent the rest of the day with his brothers and Mor. She kept throwing suspicious glances his way, but neither member of his family commented on his fidgety behaviour.

When Rhys declined to go out with them, Cassian opened his mouth but was quickly shushed by the other two. Rhys was glad that they didn’t pressure him to talk. He wasn’t sure what he would say if they had asked. He wasn’t even sure what had been going on.

So, Rhys went home long enough to take a quick shower and then he was standing before the apartment building across the street and looking at dozens of little labels. He realised that he had no clue what her last name was.

≪ I’m downstairs. Where do I ring?

≫ Archeron. Do I have to tell you it’s the 5th floor?

Rhys didn’t reply. He was too nervous and when he rang the bell, the door was buzzed open at once. He drove up the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently and when the obnoxious ding sounded and the doors slid open, he almost sprinted towards the door that was open.

He managed to saunter down the hall, slipping his hands into his pockets. His heart fell as he got to the door and found no one waiting there for him.

"Hello?" He called out, stopping at the doorstop and gently pushing the door wider.

"Come in." Feyre’s reply sounded from inside the apartment and he hesitated for only a second before he slipped inside and shut the door quietly behind him.

Suddenly he felt a little awkward, standing inside an apartment of a woman he barely knew but had spend so many days thinking about. His eyes took in the small space. The space was comfortably furnished and the walls were painted in all sorts of little images.

His eyes were following a painted vine that sprawled along the wall when Feyre cleared her throat softly and his gaze snapped to her.

The sight of her knocked his breath out of his lungs.

Feyre was wearing a skirt that flared around her thighs with a soft cotton shirt tucked into it. Her hands were clasped behind her back and she was biting on her full bottom lip, eyes taking him in.

"Hey." Rhys breathed, a smirk pulling on his lips. His hands balled into fists in his pockets and Feyre’s bottom lip sprang free as she smiled back at him. "Hello."

They stared at each other for a moment longer and then Feyre’s arms sprang free, her shoulders rolling back. She slowly walked towards him, each step slow and measured. When there was nothing but a few inches between them, she lifted one hand and gently ran one finger along his jaw.

Rhys’ eyes fell shut at the caress and his body relaxed and went taught at the same time. Her soft breathing and his pounding heart were the only things he could hear, until she whispered, "Do you want to fuck me, Rhys?"

His eyes flew open, meeting her blue-grey ones. She was starting right at him, stripping him bare and it felt as though she had reached into him and wrapped herself around his soul.

"Yes."

She gave him a soft smile, that single finger sliding up behind his ear and making his shiver.

"Will you let me have some fun before?" Her voice was soft, but he could make out the steel in it again.

"What kind of fun?" He asked. But even as he did so, he was sure that whatever she had in store for him, he would allow it. Maybe even beg for it.

"Like," She drawled and her hand pressed into his neck, pulling him down so that they were almost nose to nose. "Tie you up. Can I do that, Rhys?"

Rhys let out a rattling breath before he said, "Yes."

And then her lips were on his. Feyre’s lips were soft, but the way she moved them was anything but that. The hand at the back of his neck held him tightly as she pushed her tongue into his mouth and found his. Her other hand gripped him by the front of his shirt, making him bend lower and he finally wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

Her body was warm and so soft, she smelled sweet and it was such a stark contrast to the way her teeth were pulling on his bottom lip and her nails were softly digging into the back of his neck.

Rhys was painfully hard before they broke apart to catch their breaths.

"What else?" He gasped.

Her eyes gleamed with something utterly wild and wicked. Feyre licked her lips, letting go of his neck. "Maybe I’ll blindfold you, too."

He let out a chocked laugh, watching her as her small hands began to unbutton his shirt.

"Will you let me do it?" She asked, eyes on his chest that was revealed bit by bit to her.

"You can do whatever you want to me, darling." Rhys purred.

Her breathing hit his chest a moment before she began kissing it. Rhys gripped her by the waist, not able to believe that she was here and he was finally able to touch her.

"C’mon." She whispered, taking one of his hands and pulling him down the hallway.

Rhys didn’t look at anywhere but her. As he was led down a cramped hallway, his eyes took in the sway of her hips and gripped her hand harder.

Feyre pushed open a door to her bedroom and Rhys’ eyes immediately flicked over to the window. He could see his own apartment from here. With the lights turned off, there wasn’t much to see but he could imagine how Feyre would be able to see him sit at his desk and stew over his writing for hours on end.

The thought made him flush.

Feyre stopped moving when they reached the edge of the bed. Her hand slid out of his as she turned around and gave him a soft smile.

Rhys’ heart pounded, watching as Feyre’s hands drifted to her waist and pulled her shirt out of her skirt. She was still smiling at him when the white fabric was pulled over her head, revealing soft, pale skin and a white lacy bra. When her arms dropped, taking the shirt with them, her golden-brown hair tumbled down her shoulders. The curls fell over her breasts, along her arms and Rhys had to clench his jaw at the breathtaking sight before him.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Feyre asked, her voice light and filled with amusement.

He simply pushed his own shirt off him, since Feyre had done all the work of unbuttoning it for him. Her blue-grey eyes ran over his shoulders and down his arms hungrily. Feyre licked her lips and then her small hands were at his wrists, running up his arms and over his shoulders.

Her touch was light, barely more than a whisper but it made a shiver run down Rhys’ spine. A soft groan escaped his lips. Feyre took a step closer to him, her body heat so close to him. He looked down at her and finally let his own hands wander. One curled around her waist, while the other slid up her arm and to her neck. He cupped her face, his thumb slowly stroking her jaw. Her eyelids fluttered and she arched her back, pressing closer to him.

Her own hands didn’t stay idle. They explored his chest and stomach, nails softly scratching at his toned muscles until they ended up tangled in the line of hair that led to the waistband of his jeans.

Rhys slid his own hand down the curve of her ass, finding the hem of the skirt and running his hand back up. Feyre let out a quiet moan when Rhys’ hand slid all the way up to the dip in her back without finding any underwear.

He felt as though his heart might beat right out of his chest.

She gave him a knowing look and Rhys damned it all. He dropped his other hand down to her hips and then he dropped to his knees, right before her.

"Shit." Feyre murmured somewhere above him but he was already pushing up her skirt, slipping both hands between her legs and parting them gently.

"What did I tell you last night, darling?" Rhys asked against the soft skin of her inner thigh.

She let out another breathless moan. "You said many things. I can’t remember—" She broke off with a gasp when Rhys gently bit into her thigh.

Rhys held onto her, lifting one leg to drape it over his shoulder and then he ran his nose and lips up her thigh. He could smell her, feel the slight shiver that went through her body and when he spoke next, he made sure that his breath fanned over her already wet folds.

"I said I want you to think of my mouth on you." He pressed his lips against her clit. Feyre sucked in a sharp breath. "Of my tongue in you." He added and licked down her slid, teasing her entrance.

Feyre moaned and Rhys had to hold her tighter as she swayed on her feet. A hand slid into his hair, pressing his face closer to her and Rhys took that as his sign to feast on her. She tasted amazing and the sounds she made were divine. Last night, he had listened to her touching herself, but now that he was the one coaxing those sounds from her, he had to concentrate on not coming before taking off his jeans.

Rhys focused on her clit, flicking his tongue over the small bundle of nerves until Feyre’s legs were shaking and he was supporting most of her weight. He felt her dripping into his face and the soft moans of encouragement were driving him absolutely crazy.

He slipped a finger into her. She was so wet that it slipped in all the way and he felt her inner walls clutch at him. With his lips wrapped around her clit, Rhys shifted until he could slide in a second finger and move them in and out of her in quick, fast motions. She was so wet that his mind couldn’t help but think of how it would feel for his cock to slide into her and he moaned, causing Feyre to clench around him tighter.

His fingers were moving so fast, in quick sharp thrusts that made Feyre writhe against his single handed grip and he could hear her cursing through her panting breaths. Her fingers were gripping him hard. And then her muscles clenched tightly, her knees shook and Rhys felt more wetness flowing out of her. It dripped down his hand, running along his arms.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She almost sounded hysterical as her fingers gripped him tightly pressing him closer to her.

Rhys kept going, kept fucking her with his fingers even as she kept coming around them.

After what felt like minutes, Feyre tugged at his hair sharply, pulling his face away form her and let out a shaky breath, "Please, stop. I can’t—"

He slowly slid his finger out of her, eyes taking in the mess she had made. Fluids were running down her legs and his hand and forearm were drenched in her juices. When he helped her lower her leg back onto the floor, Feyre stumbled and Rhys caught her.

With his arms wrapped around her legs he stood, lifting her with him and dropping her gently on the bed. Feyre’s eyes were closed and her chest was rising and falling.

"You liked that?" Rhys asked, sitting down at the edge of the bed and softly stroking her shaking legs.

"Yeah, just give me a second." She breathed, smiling even as her eyes remained shut.


End file.
